


unnamed

by orphan_account



Series: Merlin Random Writing/Drabble Series [4]
Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M, NTAs 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 16:52:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colin wants to wipe Bradley's pout off his face and knows just how to do that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unnamed

**Author's Note:**

> weird half-porn fic. stupid and ridiculous and written in a couple minutes so. RIDICULOUS DID I SAY THAT YES? ridiculous :D

There were many things that were wrong tonight. First of all, there were so many dogs. Dogs everywhere. And Bradley liked them—had grown up with one, after all, and once things settled down he’d maybe get one for himself—but he liked them tame and trained. And silent. Silent, for Christ’s sake, not like this tennis ball-sized abomination tripping over his feet, trying to make him fall. Bradley did not approve of that. He also didn’t approve of that one lady with the microphone (he didn’t care about being more specific—they all had blonde hair, somehow, chemically bleached and gross) who had a truly, truly terrifying voice that could make him run away with the speed of an Intercity train, even if he were Arthur, sword or no sword be damned. That voice made gritting teeth or nails or chalk on a blackboard seem as sweet as copulating unicorns in a rainbow-coloured princess castle. Furthermore—yes, there was more—Eoin couldn’t keep his hands to himself. It was sad to see that the little Vlahos minx had gotten him all excited by the look of him in that suit (and even Bradley had to admit he looked smart, but damnit, that didn’t have to mean Eoin had to take like twenty pictures of Vlahos at once [from different angles so he could find the most promising one]) but, well, Eoin was Eoin and you didn’t really say no to him.

And then there was the fact that his boyfriend decided to beyond what he’d term fashionably late—excruciatingly late he was, tripping over himself in his suit, and even though those stupid butterflies on ecstasy were fluttering about madly in Bradley’s belly, his eyes narrowed at the sight of that hair. They weren’t in the 1950s anymore, really, and he understood that Colin had to have it cut for that new role of his, and even though there was one good thing about it—it made his teacup ears stick awkwardly out from his face, just perfect for Bradley’s fingers to touch—Bradley missed the way it’d curl just behind his ears when it grew too loong. Missed the way he could sink his fingers into the hair at the back of that neck and tug, tug Colin down to his face, so he could lick into that lush, panting mouth…

So, yeah. There were quite a couple things Bradley wasn’t fond of tonight. It kept getting worse—there was some bullshit about a Truth or Dare game they managed to avoid at the last moment, Colin not so tactfully bumping against Bradley’s shoulder and making what he thought were warnings with his eyes, but what looked more like panicky doe-eyes, not suspicious at all. Bradley didn’t really know what happened after that—so many people, all the noise, and Rupert was seriously useless at keeping the reporters off their backs—but he’d recognise those thin fingers around his wrist from thousand others, and it made his heart skip a beat. They couldn’t—Colin didn’t want people to see, why’d he—

“In here,” Colin muttered into his ear and didn’t wait long before shoving Bradley into a dark, magically empty utility room. Well, not empty empty; Bradley was pushed in there and almost fell head-over-heels backwards onto the floor as he staggered over a bucket. Before he could do that and proceed to make a racket that would have everyone noticing them, though, there were those fingers again, closed around his wrists, holding onto him tightly. There was a pause, an all-encompassing silence, and it made Bradley close his eyes and focus on the fact that Colin’s fingers were on his bare skin—sliding underneath his sleeves, pushing up the expensive material. He swallowed hard as he felt Colin’s thumb stroke over his skin, the way the pad of his finger pushed the soft hair into the wrong direction.

“What are you doing,” he muttered into the darkness, the pulsing of his heart too loud in his ears, making him dizzy. Colin didn’t reply but only stepped closer, and Bradley felt his warmth, felt the closeness when Colin slid his hands over his clothed arms to his chest, laid them to rest there.

“What I should have done before we’ve gotten here,” came the answer in that voice, and Bradley shivered with the memory of last time when he’d heard it. Rough and low, sliding slickly through his blood like honey, setting into a hook in his belly and pulling, pulling, pulling.

“You can’t,” Bradley began, then realised it was utterly useless. Colin stepped closer still til he was chest to chest with Bradley, his hands coming around his waist, wandering lower, those clever, clever hands, opening up to slide those palms around the cheeks of his arse, cupping and squeezing. Colin Morgan may be a stammering mess on any stage, may remain quiet around people he didn’t know, but he was never, never shy in bed (and it made warmth explode in Bradley’s chest, to think that Colin could only be that way with him).

“You can’t,” Bradley said brokenly, mouth open around his slightly faster breathing.  
“You’ll find I can,” Colin said. He fastened his mouth to the soft spot just underneath Bradley’s jaw, hot and wet and open. As he sucked a hard bruise into the skin, Bradley felt his knees go weak, his hands coming up to rest on Colin’s shoulder.

“Cols,” he whispered, fisting the fabric in his hands. He wanted to push Colin away, say it was a bad idea—someone could stumble in on them any time, and the rumours would never end anyway if someone were looking for them and they weren’t found—but he tugged him closer instead, brought that brilliant mouth closer so it nuzzled up along the curve of his jaw. When Bradley felt an incisor sink softly into the lobe of his ear, all rational thought flew out of his mind. Colin’s hand was on his crotch just in time to feel his dick twitch in his pants, and Bradley’s hands tightened on Colin’s shoulders, his hips bucking forward involuntarily.

“Want to wipe that pout off your face,” Colin said, pulling back. “You’re far prettier with a smile.” 

There was a moment before Colin shifted closer again, and then Bradley felt Colin’s lips on his own, kissing softly, once, brief but tender and so very, very promising. They breathed openly against one another in momentary silence, Colin’s breath fanning warmly over Bradley’s moist lips.

“And I just know how to do that,” he murmured. Licked a last time over Bradley’s lower lip and then sank to his knees, and Bradley’s brain took the gun and shot itself.


End file.
